“It’s Happy Birthday to Me!!”

This post is nearly a week late, but I couldn’t finish the week without acknowledging my munchkin’s third birthday.

On Monday, whenever someone asked K about the crown she was wearing or what was special about the day, she would explain, “It’s Happy Birthday to Me!!” When one of her teachers said to her, “Oh it’s your birthday? Could it be my birthday too?” K replied: “Well, it could be your birthday, but it’s not because it’s my birthday, but it would make you sad if I told you it wasn’t your birthday, so we can pretend it’s your birthday if you want even though it’s actually my birthday.” The teacher said she’s never been told “no” quite so politely in her life.

But this is K. She’s smart and articulate, crazy and hilarious. Her thought process is fascinating to watch and her individual sense of self and style is something I hope devoutly that she keeps in the face of peer pressure as the years go on.

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You aren’t special. Or maybe you are. But that means you aren’t.

On Facebook today, I was pointed to a great article in a local blog about a high school commencement speech from Friday, which was, in a word, fantastic. But before I get into why, let’s take a step back.

I frequently have conversations with friends where we lament the inability of “the younger generation” (shudder. I can’t believe I just said that.) to fend for themselves. The sense of entitlement seems currently to be out of all proportion with reality. Virtually an entire generation has been raised to be praised, petted and catered upon. We give awards for showing up, and tell our children that they are smart, when they’re merely being average; that all that matters is that you tried your best even though we know that the wider world cares about results than it does about effort.

Even with my own generation, I’ve often commented (before the recession) that my generation seems to think that we’re entitled to be fulfilled by our job. That we deserve to find a job that not only pays us well, but that fulfills us as people and our desire to do good in the world (two things, sadly, that are usually mutually exclusive).

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“I can rescue myself!”

There are some moments where you can see a flash of the person you hope your child is becoming. It’s hard to know during those moments how much of it is brainwashing (admittedly by me), desire to please you, their own personality or good upbringing (:-)). But they sure do make you feel good inside.

K’s teachers are constantly telling me that she speaks her mind (loudly). One of her teachers calls her “fresh.” Which is probably more accurate than my preferred word of “sassy” since it communicates her tendency to defy authority from time to time.

At any rate – judge for yourself yesterday’s scenario:

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My Kid Uses Chopsticks Better Than I Do

Seriously. My father used to tell me that the true test of someone’s ability to use chopsticks was being able to pick up peanuts with them. I wonder what he would think of my not quite three year old picking up Goldfish? See below for pictures. Continue reading

The Tribulations of Parenting: K Episode 2.10

My little girl growing up

One of the things about parenting that people talk a lot about but you don’t really appreciate is how you feel when your kid tells you that someone hurt her. In this instance, I don’t mean physically – Day care/pre-school has its perils, so my kid has been pushed, bitten, kicked and had her hair pulled, but mostly it all falls under what I would call reasonable expectations. Here, I’m talking about the emotional hurt – and the realization that your kid not only mature enough to feel it, but also has grown enough to articulate it. Case in point:

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K Interlude: Episode … uh … 1.3?

Two interludes:

K: “I’m Mommy, and you’re Katherine.”

Me: “So I’m Katherine?”

K: Yes.

M: Then I must be really cute.

K: And smart!

That’s my girl. Second interlude involves our seemingly never-ending potty training battle. Continue reading

Super K Strikes Again

For the amount that I write about my kid, this blog is turning into a Mommy Blog that has no mission. For that, I’m sorry. If you’re here for my deep thoughts, well, you should realize by now that those are relatively spread out and interspersed with fluff. Sorry.

On the other hand, if you’re here to hear about my sassy kid, you’ve come to the right place. Those of you who are Facebook friends of mine will have already heard this story, so you can feel free to tune out now.

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